


Malheur au Chocolat

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Series: Sugar and Spice [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Coming In Pants, Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Loki (Marvel), Femdom, IronFrost - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: She taps one finger against the corner of her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick. "You've got something here."
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Sugar and Spice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707355
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	Malheur au Chocolat

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent as hell, but hey, that's what we're here for.

Being CEO of a multibillion dollar company is fucking hard. And boring. Somebody should really put him out of his misery.  
  
Tony has just finished his lunch and is nursing his fifth (seventh? he lost count) cup of coffee that day when there's a knock on the door half a second before it swings inward. "Mister Stark," his new PA greets, not looking up from her Starkpad as she closes the door behind herself.  
  
Well, _new_ isn't all that accurate. She's been with the company for a year, working for Pepper for the first eight months, but when Tony had spotted her during a presentation Pepper had strong-armed him into attending, he had snatched her out of his second-in-command's hands immediately.  
  
"You know that's a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen," Pepper had said with a disapproving tilt to her lips, but of course she had just rolled her eyes in the end and handed the woman over to Tony, muttering to herself how at least it's "no fresh faced intern with a crush this time" (as if Tony would make _that_ particular mistake again).  
  
Sometimes it's good to be the boss.  
  
"Miss Laufeysson," he replies now, smirking as he pushes his dessert plate to the side. She really is a vision, he thinks as he lets his eyes wander over her.  
  
She's dressed all in black and green today, as she is so often, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in a way that is very much not business appropriate. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like wrapped around his hand as he bends her over his desk, pulling her black pencil skirt up over her hips and pushing himself into her. _I bet she's a garter belt kind of girl_ , he thinks as he stares, maybe a little too intently.  
  
"Earth to Mister Stark," she says, snapping her fingers in front of his face, and he jumps a little in his chair. Loki (and he still can't get over what a strange name for a woman that is) smirks down at him, holding the Starkpad out to him with her other hand. "Miss Potts needs these signed by four o'clock." When he takes the pad with an affirmative grunt, her smiles softens a little, and she taps one finger against the corner of her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick. "You've got something here."  
  
There's an odd glint in her eyes, he thinks, and so, instead of reaching up and wiping whatever it is away, he leans back in his chair, the pad forgotten on the table, and grins up at her. "Care to lend a hand?"  
  
Loki cocks an elegantly plucked eyebrow. "Are you propositioning me, sir? Miss Potts warned me about you, you know?"  
  
"She does have my best interests at heart," he says smoothly, looking up at her. She's wearing ridiculously high heels today, towering over him even more than usual, and he has to admit it's way hotter than he ever thought something like that could be. Howard always accused him of having a Napoleon complex (which is kind of funny coming from a man only 1.5" taller than him and who named an entire expo after himself) but in this scenario? He doesn't mind at all, seeing how it usually affords him a rather perfect view of her glorious tits. "You didn't answer my question."  
  
"No," she says with a smirk, "I didn't."  
  
And then she reaches out and drags the same finger she tapped against her mouth over the corner of his, collecting the smudge of liquid chocolate left over from his dessert. Holding his gaze, she holds it up, mere inches from his mouth.  
  
Tony leans forward and closes his lips around the tip of her finger and sucks, drags the flat of his tongue over it. Loki sucks in a breath through her nose.  
  
"Mister Stark," she says, and her voice has gone husky all of a sudden, sending a bolt of arousal down his spine.  
  
He lets her finger slip from his mouth, gives it a last lick before he draws back. "If you tell me to stop, I will."  
  
In answer, Loki hikes up her skirt (yup, garter belt confirmed) and slides smoothly onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. The chair creaks a little under their combined weight, and Tony takes a hold of her waist to steady her. "Such a gentleman," she purrs, wriggling to get more comfortable, and Tony bites back a groan. "Guess the stories about your sexual deviancy are exaggerated after all."  
  
"I can neither confirm nor deny," he says with a grin before he leans into her space, pressing light kisses to her throat as she tilts her head to give him room.  
  
"Do you try this with all your PAs?" Her hand is in his hair, nails dragging over his scalp.  
  
"I don't usually have PAs," he says against her jaw, and she laughs.  
  
"I should be flattered, I suppose, that the great Tony Stark desires me enough to put up with having me babysit him."  
  
"There's a roleplay idea," he muses, and Loki laughs again.  
  
"I take back what I said about your sexual deviancy." And then her grip on his hair tightens and she pulls back his head, away from her throat, until he has to look up at her. "If you wanted me to boss you around more, all you had to do was say so," she breathes, her lips so close to his he can feel the air move against his skin when she speaks.  
  
Tony isn't usually the submissive sort. Sure, he'd categorise himself as a switch but he tends to be the one calling the shots. Right now, though? Loki could tell him to get on the floor and kiss her heel and he'd hit the ground so fast his knees would bruise.  
  
He moves forward, wincing slightly at the strain this puts on his hair, intending to kiss her, but she probably anticipated his move and leans back, tightening her hold even more. "Fuck," he gasps as he retreats. "That stings."  
  
Loki smiles, all teeth. "Good." Then she leans down and kisses him.  
  
She tastes of spices, he thinks, like she had curry for lunch, the slight burn of chilies bursting on his tongue when she grants him access to her mouth. The hand in his hair has gentled, fingers stroking over his skin now instead, and when she shifts in his lap, he realises how hard he is and, a moment later, how wet she appears to be. He groans into her mouth, and he can feel her grin as she rolls her hips, her breath hitching.  
  
They're both breathing hard by the time Loki pulls back, still wearing that smirk. There's a flush in her cheeks, but otherwise she looks way too collected and in control. Tony moves his hand up her side until he can cup one of her breasts, runs his thumb over her nipple.  
  
"We should really lock the door," she says, her voice low and breathy, but of course she makes no move to get off of him.  
  
"Yeah, we should," he agrees, before he winds his arm around her, holding her to him as he stands before he deposits her on his desk, her skirt bunched up around her waist. Her underwear is shiny, and black as sin. "What would Miss Potts say if she walked in on us like this?"  
  
Loki grabs a hold of his tie and pulls, until he's bracketed by her thighs and they're breathing the same air again. "Probably something along the lines of 'Told you so'."  
  
He chuckles, and her smile widens in response. "Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that one."  
  
They meet for another kiss. Tony takes hold of her ass and tugs her forward until she's on the edge of the desk, until he can grind his erection against her, and he's finally rewarded with a soft whine.  
  
"What do you want," he says against her lips, and she throws her head back and laughs.  
  
"What do I want," she says with another chuckle, "I can't remember the last time a man asked me that." She looks at him, considering, and then she says, with a smirk, "I want to be _worshipped_."  
  
Fuck.  
  
Oh, _fuck_.  
  
Tony is pretty certain he's never been this turned on in his entire life.  
  
Loki cocks her eyebrow again. "So what will it be," and she leans forward a little, until she's pressed against him, her arm going around his neck before she murmurs against his ear, "Anthony?"  
  
Goosebumps pop up all over him. Howard and pretty much no one else used to call him Anthony, and he never would've imagined the name could sound as sinful as it does coming from her mouth. He turns his head until he can bury his face in her hair, groans into it, his hands twitching where he still has a hold of her ass.  
  
"Do you want me," she asks, breath warm against his ear, as her fingers slide over the collar of his shirt, skimming the back of his neck, and he shivers.  
  
"Fuck, yes. Please," and he's dimly aware how much the dynamic has shifted since she entered the room, how much it shifts with that one word, and he doesn't care.  
  
Loki makes a pleased sound, her fingers going back into his hair. "So polite," she purrs before she presses a kiss to his cheek, "such a good boy," and Tony moans, his hips twitching. "Get on your knees," and her hand moves to the top of his head, pushes him down, and he goes without any resistance at all.  
  
Once he has settled, he looks up at her, licks his lips. "Please," he says again, his hand moving to wrap around her ankle, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the arch of her foot.  
  
She looks down at him with hooded eyes. Her lipstick is a little smudged around the edges and there's a shine to her eyes that isn't there normally but otherwise she still looks perfectly put together, hardly a hair out of place. By contrast, she has messed up whatever effort he put into his own hair this morning, and he's pretty certain he looks as desperate as he feels. It's unfair, really.  
  
Finally, she smiles and gently pulls her foot from his grasp, only to place it on his shoulder. The heel digs into his pectoral, and her smile only widens when he winces. "Go on," she says, softly.  
  
Tony's blood is rushing in his ears as he carefully takes hold of her shoe, looking up at her for confirmation that he's allowed. When she nods, he turns his head and presses a kiss to the side of it. The leather is warm under his lips, a little tacky as he pulls back, clinging to his skin. He moves up her foot then, along the arch, to her ankle and up her calf. When he reaches her knee, her hand is back in his hair, just a gentle presence. His free hand he slides up her other leg, gently, until he reaches her thighs with both his hand and his mouth, where her nylons end. Her scent draws him closer to the juncture of her thighs, and he's so hard it's making it difficult to think.  
  
"Can I...?" His eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, and he's never felt this way. He's never asked for permission like this, never felt like it would _hurt him_ to be denied. Consent is one thing, of course he always makes sure his partners consent, but permission? That's a different animal entirely, he finds.  
  
Loki looks pleased, the expression making something warm bloom in his chest. She pushes herself to standing and holds out a hand. When he takes it, she guides it to the swell of her hip, to the edge of her panties. "Tell me what you want, Anthony."  
  
He can't keep in the soft moan this elicits, and his eyes slip closed. His fingers twitch in her grasp. "I want to taste you," he says, "want to feel your thighs around me. To make you come so hard you can't see straight any more." He looks up at her, and his voice is thick with arousal. "I want to give you whatever you ask for."  
  
She makes another soft noise of approval before she lets go of his hand. Her other moves from the top of his head down, caressing his cheek, to cup his jaw, and her thumb strokes over his bottom lip. Tony lets his mouth fall open, lets himself be soft and pliant, and Loki pushes her thumb past his lips with a hum, until it rests on his tongue. "People always talk about that clever mouth of yours," she says, amusement in her voice. "Prove them right, then." And she pulls her thumb free and grabs hold of his chin instead, pulling him forward until his cheek is pressed against the soft satin of her panties, and Tony moans into the fabric.  
  
"Thank you," he breathes as he takes hold of it with hands that definitely don't tremble, before he pulls them down slowly. Loki steps out of them gingerly when he reaches the ground, and then she holds her hand out for them. Tony hands them over, and then his heart skips in his chest as she pulls his pocket square from his jacket and replacess it with her panties.  
  
"Since you've been so good so far," she says with a smirk that makes his face go unreasonably hot.  
  
She slides back onto the desk and spreads her legs, and Tony scoots forward on his knees. She's just as impeccably groomed down here as the rest of her is, most of her pubic hair waxed except for a stripe, broader than the landing strips he recalls women sporting a couple of years ago.  
  
"Beautiful," he breathes, and she chuckles.  
  
"You're easily impressed."  
  
"I just have a penchant for speaking the truth," Tony murmurs before he leans in, pressing an almost chaste kiss to her skin, her pubic hair tickling the corner of his mouth. "Or most of it, anyway," and she laughs at that.  
  
"Seems we have more in common than I thought." Her hand is back in his hair, her fingers drawing lazy circles against his skin, and he's sure that if he were a cat, he'd be blissed out of his furry little mind. Speaking of…  
  
He shuffles closer still and takes hold of her thighs, opening them a little wider. Loki leans back, catching her weight on her free hand, and he looks up at her, catching her eyes as he gives her a slow, experimental lick.  
  
She sighs softly, appreciative, and Tony goes to work.  
  
He knows he's good at this. He's had enough practice after all, and there's nothing like watching your partner fall apart from nothing but your hands and a clever tongue. And he prides himself on the cleverness of his.  
  
It doesn't take long at all until she hooks her thighs over his shoulders, the muscles quivering every now and again when he sucks on her clitoris or fucks his tongue into her. She's still remarkably quiet, watching him through her lashes, and Tony recognises a challenge when he sees one. He brings up his hand (the other stays fisted in the fabric of his pants) and teases the tip of one finger against her cunt, paying close attention to how she reacts.  
  
She wets her lips. "Do you want to fuck me," she asks, voice steadier than he thought possible considering he has her juices dripping down his chin.  
  
He, on the other hand, groans against her, shifting his weight to ease the pressure of his pants pulled tight around his cock. The thought alone has him throbbing. "Yes." A beat where he locks eyes with her. "If that's what you want," he replies, and Loki smirks down at him.  
  
"Good answer."  
  
Her breath hitches when he pushes his finger into her, her grip on his hair tightening, and he hums around her clitoris. In answer, her leg twitches where it rests on his shoulder. "Anthony…" It's not quite a whine but pretty damn close to one, and he smiles.  
  
And so Tony pulls out all the stops, adding another finger after a while, his sole purpose making her lose her cool. He crooks his fingers to find that soft spot, and Loki's hips twitch forward, pressing herself against his mouth.  
br /> "Oh, fuck," she gasps, finally, and he can't stop the triumph racing through him.  
  
She's not a talker, he finds. The most she says are bitten off curses that spill from her lips almost involuntarily, and it drives him a little mad.  
  
_I could stay here for hours_ , Tony thinks, even as he shifts his weight, his knees protesting at the position, his cock hard and neglected in his pants. There are plenty of stories about his sexual escapades, sex tapes and the like, and he wonders briefly what people would make of this.  
  
Loki twitches around him then, her heels digging into his back as she tugs him closer, her hand tightening in his hair, and then she gasps, "Yes, right there, yes, that's it," and then she throws her head back as he sucks hard on her clitoris. She comes, with a little shout, her thighs trembling and her back arching, and Tony pushes the palm of his free hand against his cock, and next thing he knows, he's coming in his pants, like a teenager, his face still buried between Loki's thighs as he groans into her flesh.  
  
When Tony comes back down to earth, he looks up to find her smirking at him, the satisfaction on her face not entirely down to her orgasm.  
  
"How you doing down there," she asks, with a knowing lilt to her voice.  
  
"I'm..." He shifts again, wincing at the wetness in his pants. "Good." He grins. "Really good," he says, then adds, "thank you."  
  
Loki's smile softens, and she pushes herself up to sitting. Her hand cups his chin, her thumb stroking along his lips again, and Tony sighs against it. "You're welcome," she says, almost too softly to hear.  
  
He shuffles back to give her room, his knees now screaming at him (he's not 25 any more, after all), and Loki slides off the desk, stands. Pulls down her skirt, and it's really unfair how put together she looks when he feels so utterly wrecked. Loki holds out a hand to him and he lets her help him get to his feet again (yup, definitely not 25 any more). His come is rapidly cooling in his pants and he winces again, reaches down to adjust himself. Loki smirks.  
  
"Your four o'clock will be here soon."  
  
"Should go freshen up then, I suppose," he says as he reaches up and wipes at a lipstick smudge at the corner of her mouth. Her smirk widens.  
  
"Oh, I don't think you should, Anthony."  
  
_Jesus Christ_ , he thinks.  
  
The next moment, she has turned away from him to collect the plates from his lunch, and before she leaves, she takes the Starkpad she brought in earlier and places it in his hand. "Miss Potts needs your signatures, remember?"  
  
He nods dumbly, and she smiles.  
  
"Will that be all, Mister Stark," she asks, with a knowing look in her eyes.  
  
"Yes, Miss Laufeysson," he croaks, clears his throat.  
  
She sashays out of his office on those ridiculously tall heels, and Tony sinks back into his chair, runs a hand through his hair. There's a dark, wet spot on the front of his pants, and he groans to himself.  
  
This is gonna be messy as hell, and he already knows he's going to love every second of it.

**Author's Note:**

> The dessert Tony had is called [Moelleux au Chocolat](https://www.laylita.com/recipes/moelleux-molten-chocolate-cake/). It's also called "chocolate malheur" in German, literally a "chocolate mistake" (malheur being a French loan word that is widely used in German), which is why I went with that name.


End file.
